


The Soul That You Used To Be

by XingueseEmpress



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Break Up, F/M, Female Edward Elric, Moral Dilemmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 17:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20568272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XingueseEmpress/pseuds/XingueseEmpress
Summary: "I've been thinking you've changed…" says Evelyn. "And in light of recent events, I've been wondering about what happened to the soul that you used to be. I would never have thought you'd do something like that, and I don't know if how I'm handling it is an overreaction."





	The Soul That You Used To Be

Evelyn Elric, clothed in a tight Xinguese gown, sits to the right of where her lover, Emperor Ling Yao －there are so many other titles to go with it, but they change so much that she doesn't have the patience to remember them all－ will be. According to tradition, one must enter a room according to their social ranking. Noblemen and their guests arrive first, followed by military brass, according to rank, and after that, the Royal Siblings, then the Royal Heirs. The emperor's favored wife (Ed never married Ling, and never plans to after what happened) and lastly, the emperor himself. Though her silver and red headdress is quite heavy, she bows her head out of habit more than the strain it causes her neck. There used to be a time when the action was in earnest, but she couldn't let herself feel that way after yesterday.

God, she still can't believe they are _celebrating _this.

The partygoers all bow as Ling enters the room, so low that their noses touch the pristine jade floors. She's almost grateful that she's not to be subject to that humiliation. She never was, even before they got together, but her placement in the room－in the back, adjacent from the grand doors－was only after their coupling. She doesn't really like sitting up here, while people grovel at her feet like lambs, only to call her names and side-eye her while she isn't looking.

She can feel Ling's gaze on her as he approaches soundlessly. She clutches the slick armrests of her throne, wishing she didn't know exactly why his stare was so concerned. She's been avoiding him since yesterday but had to accompany him today out of "necessity" as May put it.

His robes swish as he steps up the stairs leading to his throne. Ed swallows and steels herself for what she knows comes next. Ling steps in front of her and touches her chin. She lifts her head and meets his open-eyed gaze. He smiles and kisses her forehead, like he always does, and moves to sit next to her.

When he gets settled, he takes her hand and commands in Xinguese, "Rise."

Like human sized marionettes, the emperor's subjects stand and lift their heads, including the couple's personal guards, Lanfan, and Qingzhao, who stand at the very bottom of the dais.

Time passes, Ling toasts, music plays, subjects grovel, Ling toasts again, Edlyn guzzles drinks, subjects grovel some more, and Ed wishes she weren't here to witness this, so she zones out, staring at a carved area of the door. It depicts a finely dressed man－an emperor－ standing tall, his long hair, like a silk flag in the wind, as he grips a sword in one hand and a head in the other.

She looks away and sees General Cheng Yao approaching, two drinks in hand, and a proud grin crinkling his aged features. He bows his head and lifts the drinks high. "I come with an offer of wine and praise!" he says. It is an informal thing to say, but Ling and General Cheng's relationship never really called for formalities. She likes that about him.

Ling chuckles and signals Lanfan. She takes the drinks and brings them up. Ling and Ed take them, confident that the guard watched them being poured, and that Cheng's loyalty wouldn't allow him to go so low as to taint their wine. They each sip their drinks as a sign of admission and Ling says, "Sing your praises, cousin."

Then, she knows that everyone is watching, some overtly, and others peeking over glasses of wine or their dance partner's shoulders.

Cheng lifts his head and smiles. Again, he raises his arms above his head, palms up. "Long live the reign of the His Imperial Majesty, from the House of Yao, 12th Son of Ping, 94th Heavenly Son of Xing, He who harbors the essence of Huanglong!"－the crowd applauds－ "I pray that any more threats to the Dragon's Throne be swiftly vanquished by His just and holy hand." General Cheng looks over to Ed. "And to the Lady!"

Ed lifts her hand. "No thank you, General," she says. "I've gotten my ego stroked so much today, I don't think His Majesty would appreciate it if I fluffed my feathers any more than this."

Ling's back presses against his chair as he laughs. He squeezes her hand and glances at her before turning his attention back to the general. He thinks she isn't upset anymore. She won't be sorry to burst _that _particular bubble.

Ling doesn't thank him for the compliments. Emperor's don't do that, it's unsightly. And if the emperor doesn't thank him, she shouldn't either, so she stays quiet.

* * *

_Ed sits on her and Ling's shared bed, her back straight and her jaw clenched. Servants, with their heads down, dress Ling. He's across the room, silent as they slip robes onto his muscular body. She takes stock of the yellow embroidered dragon, its tail winding around the bottom hem of his bright overcoat. It snakes up to rest on his shoulder, the five-clawed front paws rest on the fabric surrounding his ribs, embroidered with bright, possibly one hundred percent gold, string._

_Ed is already dressed. She hardly ever allows servants to see to her unless the event is particularly important. Today, only Ling is to be seen, so Ed sticks with a plain, but very beautiful, russet dress that hangs loosely and sports a low collar. The necklace Ling gifted her for her 20th birthday hangs above her breasts. The phoenix pendant glows like fire in the warm lamplight. She doesn't know why she wears it with how this feeling in her stomach makes her hesitant with him, but despite living in luxury, she doesn't have much jewelry, and the necklace matches the dress so well._

"_I don't think you've ever gone over what happens when you find a traitor," Ed says. Her hands rest in her lap and she grips the gold and ruby ring that she should be wearing, but she needs something to hold right now, and she doesn't want it to be Ling's hand._

_A servant approaches Ling, holding a sheathed sword. The straps hang from the sheath, tapping quietly on her legs. It's decorative, it has to be. Ling said himself that the sword he wears in public is useless, just like a scepter. Sovereignty, that is all it represents._

_As the servant straps it to Ling's waist, he says, "I don't suppose I did."_

_The servants ensure that his headdress is how it should be and when they deem it acceptable, Ling dismisses them._

_When he turns to her, she already knows the answer. What she doesn't know is whether or not she'll be able to stand the blood on his hands._

_Ed still doesn't quite know what this feeling is._

_Ling stands atop the raised execution block, men on the left and right of him, armed; men lined up at the foot, arms tied. The newly spilled blood of a woman shines bright, splattered across the dirt, Ling's sword, his wrist, sleeve and yellow robes._

_The roaring in her ears sounds like the roaring of the crowd. It doesn't matter if she can't distinguish the sounds, she decides. What _does _matter is this feeling. It sits in her stomach and slowly rises like smoke. Like smoke, it heats her, chokes her, until she slides off her plush, wooden chair, onto her knees and expels her latest meal into the viewing box's floor._

_Ling is so far below her, his hearing so drowned out by the crowd, that he is unaware. She is escorted out of the balcony, just as his sword hits his second target._

* * *

Ed's manicured finger taps her metal knee. Her teacup rests, cold on the other, her hand clutching the dainty handle. The water runs in the bathing room. Ling leaves the door open, as he always does, so the steam carries into the sitting room, bringing the scent of pine with it. Ling had become quite enamored with the smell when he'd lived in Amestris used it to oil his bath ever was only last night that the pine had been used to mask the scent of blood.

Ed set her wasted tea on the coffee table, pulling her head back to rest on the back of the rich brown loveseat.

_Don'tgetsickdon'tgetsickdon'tget_－

A warm, calloused hand touches Ed's forehead. "Are you alright?"

Ed gasps from her trance and turns to look at Ling. He holds the hand he used to touch her up, and the other grips the back of the sofa. His lips part, forming an "O".

Ed pushes her hair out of her face and sighs. "You spooked me."

"I'm sorry," he says. "You looked pale. I was trying to see to it that you aren't running a fever."

Ed takes her time blinking. "I'm good, just tired."

"Yes," Ling says, circling the couch to sit next to her. His hair shines, still heavy from the water. "A lot's been happening these past few days."

"Uh huh."

"...That's why you've been avoiding me?"

"...Yes," Ed lies. She decides that she isn't done figuring this out yet, and it would be so much easier to bring this up later, when she isn't drowning in all these half-formed thoughts, aching from this new feeling.

Ling says nothing else. He just leans back while Ed keeps her eyes on her teacup. Her neck prickles and she just knows he's looking at her. She stays perfectly still, her lips taut, her breaths shallow.

"Before I go to bed," Ling says, "Can I have a kiss?"

She can't make up an excuse now, not when all he wants is something so small. Ed clenches her jaw. But why does she have to make it into some big thing? _Do it._

"Sure." Ed turns to him and leans closer, close enough to kiss before his fingers hold her chin, stopping her in her tracks. His calloused thumb rubs at her jaw as he looks at her, his head at a slight left tilt.

"But you don't want to, do you?" he whispers, his scent washing over her. "Why?"

"As you said before," Ed mutters, "A lot has happened these last few days."

"Including me executing ten people－ten _traitors_－ yesterday, correct?"

Ed flinches. He speaks softly, without remorse. How? How? How?

"I've been thinking you've changed…" says Evelyn. "And in light of recent events, I've been wondering about what happened to the soul that you used to be. I would never have thought you'd do something like that, and I don't know if how I'm handling it is an overreaction."

He backs away, a frown forming on his smooth face. "I suppose...that with how you are moralistically, the way you've been reacting to what I've done－what I'd do a thousand times over if it meant my rule remains secure－would shake you. I may have overestimated your ability to handle my actions, and perhaps I shouldn't have had you come watch or celebrate," he says. He's forgotten about the kiss he asked for, and Ed isn't sure if he wants it anymore. She definitely doesn't.

"But, the soul I used to be," he paraphrases, his mouth set in a scowl. "You and I both know that was a ridiculous thing to say."

* * *

Ed did not sleep next to him last night. In fact, she didn't sleep at all. Her eyes droop and she feels the heaviness that one's shoulders take on when they forego rest, but she must pack her things. She must go.

She isn't running away. Running away implies that she is leaving something she shouldn't－leaving something perfect. She realized as she lay in a separate bedchamber from Ling, that she should go. That Ling was right when he called her words－her feelings－ ridiculous. When she allowed herself to love him all those years ago, she'd known how far he'd go to become Xing's emperor. She'd known as he writhed and hollered on the floor of the Homunculus's lair, screaming at her not to interfere, that he'd gain immortality no matter what, that he'd secure his rule with the stone. Maybe it was just wishful thinking at the time, but when she'd loved him, she would have never thought he'd stoop down to murder. Perhaps if she did, she could have prepared herself for the day it happened, or more realistically, keep away from him so she wouldn't take it so personally.

It's proving to be too much for her. Loving him despite what he's done. His mouth doesn't seem so gentle against her anymore, now that it has been used to bellow out a cruel punishment. She can't imagine ever wanting his skin against her's, not if his sweat feels sticky, like the blood once splattered across it, and his hands feel like he's spreading the fluid over her skin.

She's had enough blood on her to fill several bodies, enough to know that the feeling isn't pleasant, but never enough to kill. Ling has crossed the line, and although she stands in front of it, her toes touching the edge, she will not cross and follow as he walks beyond it.

She's not running away, she tells herself again. She's moving on. Moving on, because this new feeling that has been bugging her all this time isn't new at all. It is the ache of feeling untangling itself from her veins and leaving her body. It hasn't purged itself completely yet, but Ed figures that's because she's still here, living in the home he made for her, looking into his eyes and seeing what they once had. She needs to leave him and fall out of love without him by her side. It will be better for them in the long run.

As she kisses Ling's cheek in farewell, she says those words in her head, over and over, like a prayer. _Move on, move on, move on._

And she does. It takes her a while to reacquaint herself with living simply after all these years. She has to do so much by herself again, and she sometimes forgets that if she needs something it will not be waiting for her to take it. Her bed isn't even as soft as the carpets in her old bedchamber, and it amuses her to remember a time when she'd longed to sleep in a bed that wasn't in a dingy hotel room. Now, sometimes she longs to sleep in a bed that isn't a twin, that's sheets aren't cotton. Not necessarily warmed by Ling, but she has to admit, his bed was amazing.

But she has to admit this as well: it's also strange, living alone, but not alone in the sense that she has a home to herself, alone because she has her heart to herself.

Eventually, she moves on from their love, although it had been a hard thing to do, she moves on from the feeling that being in Ling Yao's arms－his heart－stirred. She contacts him again and they become friends, as close as they had been before their relationship. She's glad that they'd started out with such a strong foundation because Ed does not like it when the people she cares about drift away from her because of something so fixable.

Evelyn is happy for Ling when he moves on, too. When she visits him for the first time in years, they hug like old friends are prone to do. She finds comfort with the happiness in his eyes when he introduces her to his new love.

His new love has a smile like spring.

Then again, so does hers.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a story that was requested to me on tumblr in the days of yore and idk I feel like it's written particularly well so I figured I'd share it here. Obviously Ed is capable of being friends with people who kill considering s/he is friends with soldier and war criminals but I guess it's different when you are in a romantic relationship with them. What do yall think?


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